Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)(33)

She opened it and scanned the contents quickly. “An assembly next week at the Shelton rooms, hosted by Lord and Lady Ainsley. You’ve already heard of it?”

He nodded. His own invitation had arrived weeks ago. The assembly would be the last major social event before most families adjourned to the countryside for Christmas. Everyone who was anyone in London would be there, and it was unquestionably Lily’s best opportunity to encourage suitors before the end of the year.

“You should attend,” he said. “Most definitely.”

Her eyebrows arched. “I should attend? Don’t you mean to say ‘we’?”

“Yes,” he forced himself to say. “Yes, of course. We should attend.” Why was it so hard to say that word? Putting the two of them in one syllable … it just seemed imprudent, somehow. In the same way he should avoid being mashed together with Lily in a small, dark, enclosed space. No telling what would happen.

“Oh, Julian, look out!”

He ducked instinctively, an instant before the parrot swooped over his head.

“Oh, Julian,” the bird squawked, coming to land on an unused candelabra. “Oh, Juuuuuulian.”

He glared at it. “Don’t ‘Oh, Julian’ me.”

Lily laughed. “I think I will keep him, if I may. He reminds me of you. Handsome, ruffled. Decked out in bright colors. A mimic.” Her eyes shone with merriment. “Perhaps I’ll name him after you, since he likes the sound of it so much.”

Julian couldn’t even form a response to that. No polite response, at least.

“The assembly,” he said, reaching out to tap the invitation. “We should attend.”

Her expression went pensive. “It’s been so long since I’ve danced. I don’t know if I remember the steps.”

“You needn’t dance at all if you don’t care to. You can always use mourning as an excuse. I’ll ward off anyone who pressures you.”

“There you go again. I don’t want to be excused, or guarded. I want to dance.” Her chin took on a decisive set. “Even if only for a few sets. Last night, I was unprepared for that party. So overwhelmed. This time, I want to show everyone I’m equal to the occasion.”

“So I see.” More than that, he sensed, she wanted to prove it to herself.

Of course she did. And why shouldn’t she? Just like the bird currently swooping from candelabra to chandelier, Lily had too long been caged by habit and grief.

She had a loving, generous soul, and she was not a woman formed for a life of solitude. But by pressing the idea of matrimony so strenuously, Julian had only given her more reason to build up a defense. If he truly wanted to be her friend, to see her settled in a happy, healthy future—to see her married—he needed to stop shielding her and start empowering her. Lily didn’t need protection from him. What she needed was confidence. Her chance to soar.

If he could give her that, Julian thought it just might be the truest accomplishment of his life.

She put her hands on her hips, scolding the parrot through a smile. “Come down from there, you cheeky thing!” Turning to Julian, she asked, “Did I leave the walnuts in the study?”

He nodded. “Shall I send a servant for them?”

“No. No, don’t. Let him fly.”

Yes, he thought as he watched her flirt with the errant bird, what Lily needed was confidence. And oddly enough, confessing his attraction had been a first step. He should have thought of it long ago. Nothing made a woman more desirable than an awareness of her own desirability. He could note the difference already. A saucy c**k of the hip, a mischievous crook of the finger. The subtle drop of her shoulders that emphasized her bosom. She was aware of her body in ways she hadn’t been this time yesterday. With progress like this in a day’s time, by next week she’d have the men of London at her feet.

And yes, the reality of that would turn Julian into a snarling, jealous beast. But for Lily’s sake, he would take his turn in the cage.

“So will you help me?” she asked him suddenly. “Practice dancing for the assembly, just a bit? Perhaps tomorrow, or—”

“No.”

She blinked.

“Not tomorrow, and not just a bit.” Smiling, he moved forward to take her hand. “We’ll start right now. We’ll practice for as long as it takes. And then, at the assembly—Lily, you will show them all.”

Chapter Eight

Damn, it was good to have a direction. Real, physical work he could do for her. Even if that work was just shoving aside some furniture and rolling up the carpet while a parrot taunted from above.

Julian led her to the pianoforte in the corner. After removing an arrangement of lilies from the top, he ran one hand over the polished wood veneer. This was a remarkably fine instrument. Far superior to any he’d learned on in his youth. He’d never had a single lesson, nor even much opportunity to practice. But after a few hours sitting down to the thing—testing the keys and experimenting with intervals, learning how the contraption worked—he’d understood it and had simply been able to play. He could hear a tune with his ears, and his fingers just knew how to translate it into the proper sequence of keys.

Some said God had given him a gift. To Julian, it was much the same as his ability to reproduce voices—just one more function of having acutely trained ears. From the earliest days of his life, listening had always been his paramount task. He’d always been alert, always been listening. Their lives had depended on it.